Don't Bother to Knock
by ylime620
Summary: A series of 1st person vignettes focusing on Margaret's experiences that begin or end with a knock on her tent door. Mostly introspective but there will be some h/m chapters so have fun with those :)
1. Another Rainy Day in Korea

_Another Rainy Day in Korea_

"There was no possibility of taking a walk that day." The opening line of _Jane Eyre_ kept running through my mind as I sat in my tent listening to the patter of the rain on the roof. It was another rainy day in Korea, just like many that had come before and many that would come after. The weather matched my mood perfectly.

I had just spent eight hours in surgery next to an unbearably whiny Frank. I knew my engagement had hurt him, but it'd been months and he'd had plenty of time to adjust. And yet there he was, complaining in my ear and insulting my professionalism. If I really had been as unprofessional as he accused I would've dropped everything right there and punched him in the face. It seemed to be the only thing to shut him up these days. How in the world could I have ever respected him? His surgical skills were subpar and his love making left a lot to be desired. At least he had learned not to show up at my tent unannounced. My tent had become my sanctuary and I revelled in the solitude.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. _Speak of the devil_ , I thought with a groan. To my surprise, it was actually Hawkeye at the door.

"What do you want?" I asked, annoyed that anyone had interrupted my few quiet moments alone.

"Here." He handed me a package.

"What's this?"

"I'm delivering the mail today."

"No, you're not. I already got mine from Radar. Why are you out in this rain?"

I really had no idea what he was doing. And why did he look so solemn?

"It's from your parents."

"Both of them?" Mother and Dad had been divorced for years. I didn't think they had seen each other since they separated.

"In a way."

"What the hell is going on Hawkeye? What aren't you telling me?"

"I think you better open it first."

"Fine." I grabbed the package roughly out of his hands. My heart skipped a beat when I read the word 'hospital' on the return address.

"Maybe I should go," he said, turning away.

"No, come inside. If this is what I think it is, I'll need the company."

We both walked inside and sat down. I stared at the package in my hand.

"I don't think it'll explode," he joked.

"No, but I might."

"Good point." I took a deep breath and tore open the box. There was a note on top in my mother's handwriting:

 _Dearest Margaret,_

 _I hate to send you something like this with no warning, but there wasn't time._

 _He said he_ _wanted you to have this._ _I know in his own harsh way he loved you._

 _I_ _'ll try to call soon. I miss you, sweetie._

 _All my love,_

 _Mother_

I sat there, not daring to look inside the box. What in the world would he have left me? With my luck it would turn out to be army boots or something else practical.

"I can't believe it."

"Are you ok?"

"Not really." I shared the note from my mother with him.

"I'm so sorry." He sat beside me on the bed.

I looked down at the package. I finished unwrapping it and gasped. It was a beautiful jewlery box that I had never seen before. I lifted the lid and a sweet melody started to play. My eyes filled up with tears. It was one of the loveliest things I had ever seen. There was another note inside. I passed it to Hawkeye because I could barely read through my tears.

"This belonged to your grandmother. I had planned to give it as a wedding present, but things don't always go as planned, do they? From Dad."

It was the most loving thing he had ever done for me and now he was gone.

"He wasn't a great dad, you know."

"So you've mentioned."

"But he's the only one I had. I just wish I knew if he was proud of me."

"I'm sure he was. Besides, no one gives gifts like this to people they're ashamed of."

"Thanks." I smiled softly. "I'm glad you're the one who delivered it. I wasn't in the mood to deal with Frank today."

"You're welcome, Major." He stood up. "Well, you probably want to be alone right now."

"If you don't mind." I walked him to the door. "Thanks again." I stood up on my tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

He smiled. "I'll see you later."

Then he turned around and walked back into the rain.


	2. Scrabble Night

_Scrabble Night_

We were all enjoying some down time in the Officers' Club. Well, everyone except Frank, that is. I assume he was back in the Swamp, crying into his Bible or something. Anyways, Hawkeye and I had been sitting next to each other playing Scrabble against BJ and Radar. It was hardly a fair fight, but our opponents were holding their own. Eventually, Hawkeye and I emerged victorious, to the surprise of no one in the bar. Hawkeye bought drinks for the table to celebrate and put a few coins in the jukebox. We sat there joking and laughing for a little while, when You Belong to Me, one of my favorites, started to play.*

"I haven't heard that song in ages," I told Hawkeye. "It's one of my favorites."

"I know," he replied. He stood up and held out his hand. "I was hoping you would want to dance to it."

"Well who am I to turn down such a tempting offer?" I smiled. I took his hand and he pulled me onto the dance floor. It's rather a slow song, so he took a chance and pulled me close.

"You're looking lovely tonight."

"Hawkeye…" I warned gently.

"Relax. I know what you're going to say and believe me, you don't have to worry. It was just a compliment."

"Well then, thank you," I replied. "I'd like to congratulate you as well, doctor. Your Scrabble skills are only slightly less impressive than your surgical ones."

He smiled. "Why thank you, major. It seems we make a pretty good team."

"It seems we do," I agreed.

We danced for a while longer until the song ended. As we walked back to the table I noticed everyone had left.

"So besides Scrabble, what other mostly useless hidden talents do you possess?" I asked.

"I'm excellent at charades."

"Really? I wouldn't think you had the self control to stay quiet that long," I teased.

"Be careful who you underestimate. It could come back to haunt you." He smiled.

I was surprised at how well we were getting along. Without Frank whining in my ear all the time, Hawkeye had become tolerable. He was even fun to be around sometimes. I had started spending a lot of time with him - maybe too much for an engaged person.

We continued talking and had a few more drinks. The jukebox was still playing on repeat so he asked me to dance with him again. This time we danced a bit slower and he pulled me even closer.

The alcohol must've helped me let down my defenses because for a few minutes I completely forgot I was engaged. I leaned into his embrace and listened to his heartbeat for a few seconds. Looking back I feel kind of silly because I never danced like that with Donald.

A few minutes later the song ended and the bar went completely quiet.

"I suppose we should go."

"That's probably a good idea."

Hawkeye walked me to my tent. The drinks seemed to boost his confidence so he kissed me suddenly. He caught me by surprise and I instinctively reached out and pulled him closer until I realized what was happening. I pulled away quickly and practically slammed the door in his face. He stood there stunned before he turned and walked away, confused.

*You Belong to Me - Patsy Cline (I like her version even if it's anachronistic.)


	3. Familiar Moments

_Familiar Moments_

I was alone in my tent when there was a knock at the door. I saw Hawkeye standing outside and told him to come in.

"I need help."

"With what?"

"There's a patient in post op who's asking to see you and won't tell anyone else what he needs."

 _Oh boy,_ I thought. _It's probably another crush._

It happened more often than I wanted it too. The boys got so lonely sometimes and they tended to fall in love with the first pretty girl they saw. I wasn't trying to sound vain, there were lots of other nurses more beautiful than I was, but I was the one who was there the most. It was sweet sometimes, but also frustrating, especially when I had to push them away. Not even the engagement ring on my finger deterred some of them.

"I'm on my way," I said reluctantly. I followed Hawkeye across the camp and into post op.

"It's that young man over there with the shoulder injury."

 _He's kinda cute_ , I noticed. _Also a little bit familiar. Wait…_

"Jimmy?"

"Hey Mags."

"What are you doing here?"

"I joined up a few months ago."

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, the doctor says I'll be leaving in a day or two."

My heart fell at the thought of him leaving so soon. I hadn't seen Jimmy since we were kids, but our parents had kept in touch. Our families had been so close. His parents were my godparents and he was like a cousin to me. Korea was the last place I expected to find him. The last place I _wanted_ to find him.

"Hawkeye." I motioned him over. "I'd like you to meet Jimmy Malone, the proverbial boy next door."

"Well, not literally next door because our families moved around a lot, but close enough," Jimmy added.

"Nice to meet you, Jimmy. For a while there we were worried about your fixation on the major here. It's good to know we don't need to call out the MPs."

"Hawkeye!" I scolded. "He's always like this. The only thing he takes seriously is surgery, and even then it's hard to tell for sure," I apologized to Jimmy.

"How dare you suggest that I'm a professional. If you're not careful, you could ruin my reputation," Hawkeye teased.

"That's the plan," I retorted. _This is fun_ , I thought. At some point Hawkeye had become a friend and it made me happy to be able to introduce him to one of my old friends.

"Well, I'll leave you two to reminisce," he said as he got up and walked away.

"Looks like I've got some competition." Jimmy winked.

"What are you talking about?"

"That handsome doctor seems to have his eye on you."

"He's like that with all the nurses." I pointed across the room to where he was flirting with Lt. Able.

"Mm hm," he said skeptically.

I took another look at Hawkeye. He really was quite attractive. I mean, that wasn't the first time I had noticed, but it was the first time someone else had suggested that there might be something more.

"Leave it alone, Jimmy."

"Ok, sweetheart."

"And don't call me that. Someone might overhear and that could be damaging to my authority." I was legitimately concerned. I knew gossip had already started to spread.

I could tell Jimmy was starting to get tired, so I left him a few minutes later.

As I was leaving, Hawkeye pulled me aside. "I need to talk to you."

"Ok."

"Let's go somewhere quiet."

"Ok."

We both walked outside and stopped in front of my tent.

"Jimmy's sick."

"Well obviously, he's in a hospital."

"No. He's not just injured. He's sick."

My heart sank. I had just found something familiar in this hell of a place and now even that was being taken from me.

"So what is it? Hepatitis? Pneumonia? Chicken Pox?" I prayed it was something curable.

"Cancer."

 _Shit. Fuck. Goddamit._

My legs buckled and Hawkeye reached out a hand to steady me.

"It's lung cancer. The late stages of it too."

"Have you told him?"

"You're the only one who has talked to him so far."

Well at least he hadn't told me before I saw Jimmy. There's no way I could've hidden the pain from my face. I pride myself on professionalism, but some moments were even too much for Major Margaret Houlihan to handle.

"And you want _me_ to tell him? He thinks he's getting out of here in a few days."

"I'll be there with you, but we've been through this before. It needs to come from someone he trusts."

"Ok." I turned away. "I need some time."

"Take all you need."

"Ok."

Hawkeye left. I went inside my tent, sat down and cried. It took a lot to make me cry, and always when I'd lost something or someone. This time I found someone _and_ lost them in the same day.


	4. The Night Is Dark

_The Night Is Dark_

Nov 5 1952

I spent last night on the floor.

I don't know why, but it was the only position I could fall asleep in. Maybe it had something to do with drinks or maybe it's just how things are now. Charles and I shared a very nice bottle of wine last night. Somehow, he had seen through my usual "mask" and offered me an ear to turn to. It was a much more sincere offer than that time he reluctantly offered to share his gloves with me. He's gotten more bearable in the last few months and he's certainly the best person to talk to about intellectual matters. Apart from nursing, I'm not very educated or sophisticated. My math is terrible, I have little knowledge of history, and this journal is the extent of my writing experience. But I love poetry, and Charles has been so encouraging and a "major" resource for my discovery. He's a relief to be around. I feel no pressure to impress him or flirt with him like I do with a certain other surgeon.

Spending time with Hawkeye is fun, but often exhausting. Charles is just kind of there. It's amazing how much I've told him. BJ seems like the obvious choice if I'm looking for advice, but turning to Charles is less intimidating. BJ's judgy. I love him to pieces, but his life revolves around his family, and sometimes I get annoyed at how he thinks having/starting a family is the cure-all. "Just admit your feelings and have a bunch of babies," is a good summary of his most recent conversation with me.

As a result, Charles has become my default confidant. The conversation only goes one way, though. Charles is still a mystery, even as he's become a friend.

Since our trip to the 8063rd, which ended less than ideally, my sleep has been nearly nonexistent. Hawkeye and I turned to each other, and it was comforting and distracting, but it still didn't erase the horror of actually being behind enemy lines as shelling shook the floor. I liked the feeling of his arms around me, but even that couldn't have saved me if an explosion had come too close.

And so, I find myself pouring out my fears to Charles, whether he wants to hear them or not.

Hawkeye came to visit the night we got back. He just makes everything so complicated. Nothing is ever easy with him. It's such hard work to stay friends with him. I can't even imagine trying to be more. The only reason we get along is because we have to. My feelings get all jumbled up around him.

I've discovered Charles is the only person I can trust with my secrets - because he doesn't care.

I've said it before, but BJ is too close to Hawkeye to remain objective. I know he's meddled in our relationship. If he weren't such a darn good person, I might push him away like I tried to do with Trapper.

The nights have been longer than usual lately. Last night was particularly difficult. Hawkeye had been making me uncomfortable all day with his attention. I've agreed to be friends, but I'm confused by my feelings and need some space. It's hard to find space in a small army camp.

I had finally found some time and space alone last night, but there was a knock at my door. I opened it, surprised to see that it was Charles. He's been extremely observant lately. He held up a bottle of wine and a few records.

"I thought you might like to share."

I invited him in and he sat down.

"Thanks," I said as I set the wine on the table and grabbed two glasses.

"Since you have decided to start dumping your feelings on me, I have decided that I might as well try to enjoy myself as you ramble on."

"Oh, so you're not just sharing out of the goodness of your heart?"

He laughed. "My dear Margaret, since when have you known me to do anything out of the goodness of my heart?"

He sat there listening for ages as I complained about Hawkeye, Donald, and the fact that somehow "Hot Lips Houlihan" had caught feelings for the men in her life. Complicated feelings. We drank the wine and listened to Mozart and Debussy. He even agreed to sit through one of my Ella Fitzgerald albums. He left a few hours later and I was left alone with the bottle of wine.

I hate losing control, but I finished the bottle myself. Wine always makes the sadness worse, so I just sat on the floor and cried myself to sleep. I just feel so alone these days. My husband is having an affair, I had sex with a colleague I don't like, and the only person I can turn to shares nothing about himself.

I woke up on the floor this morning.


	5. Better Man

_Better Man_

The divorce was months ago, but it still stings every time I look down at my ringless finger. Tonight I pull out all my letters from Donald. I decided it's time to throw them away. While that is the right choice, reading them before I do so is definitely not. I see all the signs I had missed the first time. The "darling"s get fewer with each passing letter and the details more mundane.

His first letter begins, "My dearest Margaret," and concludes "All my love."

His final?

That one starts "Margaret" and signs off with an undoubtedly insincere "Sincerely."

I also find letters from the rest of his family. The passive aggressive missive from his mother that still makes my blood boil every time I read it, the short but sincere note from his father welcoming me to the family, and the small bundle of friendly letters from his sister. I had exchanged a few letters with her and at some point, they started to come more frequently than my own husband's.

My mind goes back to our honeymoon. I should've seen it then. I realize that perhaps visiting "old friends" wasn't the smartest thing to do. We had so little time to spend together. However, his decision to sulk after the party instead of make love was unnecessarily petty. How did Hawkeye put it? "He's competing with your whole past." But what about his past? I put boyfriends and lovers and Frank behind me, but it turned out Donald couldn't do the same. I tried to help him, tried to be an understanding wife. It's not easy being an Army wife. I saw my mother do it firsthand and her marriage ended in a messy divorce. I thought I'd be able to succeed where she had failed. I was so naive.

I used to blame myself. I should've been more understanding, more forgiving, less "sturdy," softer, quieter, less like a major, more like a woman.

Well, I am more understanding now. I understand now that I wasn't the one who needed to change. I wasn't the one who broke my promises. I wasn't the one who put the letter in the wrong envelope. That's all on him.

Going through these letters is painful, but it's nothing like the pain of that first letter. I spent hours rereading it. I could hardly believe it was real. I had to read part of it aloud to Hawkeye before it truly hit me.

 _"My dear Darleen,_

 _How long it's been since we walked together on the beach at Oahu. I can still see the moonlight splashing on your shoulders and hear the gentle whoosh, whoosh, whoosh of the waves..._

 _I know you've heard I'm married. I'm sure you'd like her. She's competent and a hard worker. She'll make an excellent hostess when we return to the States. All in all, a sturdy woman…"_

I read it in a very dramatic voice, but I was dying inside.

I never mailed the letter that I shared with Hawkeye. I was too scared of the consequences. It's sitting in my desk with a stack of other finished but as yet unmailed letters. There's one to my dad, one to Donald, and one to Frank's wife. There's even one to Hawkeye that I might send after the war.

I went back to him a week later. Six weeks after that I had a pregnancy scare. It put everything into perspective. I wasn't happy and I knew Donald wouldn't be happy. Hell, I don't even think he'd be a good father.

I wish things had ended differently. I wish we could've made it through. I wish it could have turned sweet again, like it was in the beginning, but there was too much time, too much space between us. War takes its toll on so many things - friendships, relationships, marriages, families - and ours was no different.

Hawkeye asked me if I was hurt by the letter. My reply was brutally honest: "Hurt? Do you know what it feels like to give your heart to somebody? To live just for a glimpse of his handwriting in the mail? To lose sight of his picture because you've covered it with lipstick? And then to find out you're sturdy!?"

Hawkeye didn't know. He'll never know. I don't even think Donald will know.

I gave him my best. We were hundreds of miles apart, but I agonized over every word I included in my letters. I made sure they were the perfect mix of sweet, sentimental, and strong. I told him how much I loved him in a million different ways.

As I review the letters in my hands, I see how cheap they are. They got shorter and shorter as the months passed. The stationary is cheap, the words are cheap, and the small gifts he sometimes sent are cheap.

I get up from the desk and walk over to the mirror. It seems tonight is a time for self reflection. Standing there I realize that although I gave him my best, all he did was take and take and take with nothing in return. I decide I won't let that happen again. After all, I still have my pride.

A knock on the door startles me away from my task. I open it and find Hawkeye standing outside.


End file.
